


The Word

by BellzaBot



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-11 09:48:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5623009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BellzaBot/pseuds/BellzaBot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which Obi-Wan successfully rescues Satine Kryze from Darth Maul on Mandalore. The repercussions of her survival change the course of Obi-Wan's life, and thus, the life of his closest friend, Anakin Skywalker.</p><p>~~~</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I do not like the word "affair"

**Author's Note:**

> I find the lack of Obi-Wan/Satine fic very sad. Please enjoy. 
> 
> I own nothing.
> 
> Please leave comments. :)
> 
> ~~~

It happened so quickly. In his mind he knew she only had another minute before the lack of oxygen would cause irreconcilable damage. But she was in pain _now_ … and he did not like that at all.

The moment Maul revealed the darksaber, something shifted in Obi-Wan. He was done—finished with this game. Tired of fighting—and he would not tolerate any more pain inflicted on his loved ones.

_Loved Ones._

Yes. He had all but admitted it to her in the days before. Despite Yoda’s training. Despite the code. He loved her. He had always loved her. There was nothing he could do—it had simply happened—in the moment they met when they were still just adolescents. He had loved her since he was a boy of 19.

He had spent hours—days—years as a Padawan, and as an adult man, meditating in an attempt to somehow empty himself of his feelings for Satine. He thought perhaps he could somehow let them go into the living force. To forget her. To somehow… give up his desire.

But it seemed that the living force had other plans.

His training bond with Qui-Gon was strong when he was a Padawan, and many nights, when he could not sleep for thoughts of Satine, and tears for missing her, Qui-Gon would sit beside him, and attempt to distract the boy’s mind with other things. Gently drawing his thoughts away from his sadness, in a kind, fatherly way.

He now knew, as an adult, and a Jedi Master, that his initial ideas about the living force were not at all true. It was something he had heard adults talk about, and wanted to pretend he understood as well. But now, years later, he knew the force would only continue to bring to try to bring he and Satine together—like opposite magnets. Because essentially… that was very much how sentient creatures functioned.  

“Enough,” Obi-Wan whispered to Maul, bringing his thoughts back to the present. And although he did not like to do so often, he used the force to push the two Zabrak guards away from him, crashing their bodies into the walls on either side of the throne room. He used the force to call his saber back to his hand, and within the blink of an eye, the weapon was ignited and used to block Maul’s weapon from impaling Satine.

But she was still suffocating.

Never before in his life had Obi Wan felt this way. The anger welled in his throat like a tide coming in quickly. Well… perhaps he _had_ felt like this. One other time… Emotion flooded his chest. He struggled to breath—it felt as if he was drowning in anger.

“You will take no more loved ones from me,” he whispered.

And then, unlike the valiant, obedient man he was raised to be, Obi-Wan struck out with anger and hatred. He had not done so since he was a Padawan, but the honest truth was that it _did_ help him move faster, and with more precision and accuracy.

The fight was short. Only a few seconds long before Maul’s head was severed from his body, and rolled on the floor. Within the same instant, Satine fell out of the force choke hold she had been in and onto her knees. Obi-Wan heard her gasping for air, but could not go to her aid just yet. He had three other Zabrakians to kill.

It felt so utterly wrong—nauseated him—to slay them as he did, but he wanted this to be over and done with.

When they were dead. He stopped. Terrified at what he had done. He looked at the bodies and blood strewn across the marble floor, and realized in that moment what atrocities he would be capable of if he ever truly turned to the dark side.

He went to Satine’s side a moment later. There were broken blood vessels around her eyes and on her throat. She was crying, and struggling to speak to him, but all that came from her were strangled, gravely rasps of sound.

“Shh—don’t talk, my darling. You’ve been hurt.”

And with that picked her up into his arms, and left the temple without another word.

 

~~~

 

Obi-Wan laid Satine on the med table in the transport. She continued to make attempts at sounds, softly clawing at him, trying to pulling him closer. This was obviously code for “don’t leave me,” but Obi-Wan needed to get them off the planet, and quickly. He gave her a light sedative, and a gentle kiss before returning to the cock pit to pilot.

As soon as he was in Hyperspace, he switched on the automatic pilot and let himself fall into a momentary meditation. What had he done? What had happened? If this had been any other day, and he had killed a number of enemies of the Republic, he would not have thought twice about it. But something had happened in that throne room—something different.

At that moment, his com went off.

[Where are you]

That was all. Obi-Wan was slightly annoyed at the lack of question mark. Anakin had never been a strong writer.

Obi-wan immediately commed him back, but in real time.

“Anakin, I need your help,” he said plainly.

“What’s up?” he heard in response a few seconds later.

“I’m unable to… return to the temple tonight. It’s complicated, I’ll explain later. I need a place to stay with a good medical facility. Could Padme possibly—“

“I’m on it,” Anakin said. And disconnected.

They were on Coruscant within the hour, and Obi-Wan docked near Padme’s senate apartments. Both she and Anakin were there on the landing platform when Obi-wan appeared with Satine in his arms. Anakin said nothing. He knew very well what had happened, but Obi-Wan was in no mood for his sassiness right now. Padme, however, was less versed in Obi-Wan’s relationship with Satine, and was more concerned.

“What happened? Is she all right?” the senator asked.

“No. She’s been nearly strangled to death. She’ll need a healer immediately.”

“Follow me,” Padme said, and the four of them were off.

 

~~~

 

“These robes are much too long for me,” Obi-wan said quietly.

“Well, you are a bit shorter than I, Master.” Anakin replied.

“Yes, you don’t have to remind me. They’ll have to do until tomorrow.”

“You look quite nice in the darker color,” his Padawan teased.

Obi-wan chuckled. “The red and black combination isn’t quite my speed,” he said, gesturing to his fiery hair. “And why, might I ask, do you even have extra robes here?”

There was a momentary silence. Obi-Wan took the moment to glance around. These were Padme's personal chambers. One of her silk robes laid across a nearby sofa, a band of Corellian pearls on the coffee table... and then, Anakin's com device, carelessly thrown beside them. Obi-Wan could sense the senator's presence in the next room, safe and sleeping--but he could also sense Anakin's presence here, not only there in the moment, but having been there often... and for years, now. The joking tone of the conversation faded rather quickly, and Obi-wan regretted the question he had asked. Surprisingly, when Obi-Wan looked up, Anakin didn’t look away. He stared directly at his closest friend with a soft, open expression.

“Do you wish to have that conversation, now, Master?”

“No,” Obi-wan said honestly. “It doesn’t require explanation. I’m not an idiot.”

Anakin stared out a nearby window out into the lights of the Coruscant skyline.

“Of course not. But honestly, what harm has it done thus far? We are Jedi, yes, but we’re also men. And to think we can live without any kind of love or affection at all is foolishness. Or at least I’ve always thought so. It’s the one thing I’ve never agreed with.”

Obi-wan felt Anakin’s subtle prod. His former Padawan was smart. He knew Obi-wan had gone to Mandalore without the council’s permission, slain those necessary, and rescued his lover. Now, because of his actions, Obi-wan could not respond with his usual wise warnings about beautiful women, and emotional attachment.

“What can I say, Anakin?” Obi-wan finally responded, “You have caught me in a personal conundrum.”

Anakin shook his head and turned from the window to his Master.

“I don’t mean to catch you in anything. I only want you to be happy, Master, and if that mean’s going against a tenant of the code, then…”

“But, Anakin, it is not—”

“But nothing, Master. Your happiness first. That’s all. That’s the end of it.”

Obi-wan was actually quite moved by this. He said nothing, processing the information. Anakin nodded and smiled softly.

“Goodnight, Master,” he said.

"Goodnight, Anakin," Obi-Wan responded.

And then, without shame, Anakin walked into Padme’s bedchamber, and gently locked the door.

 

~~~

 

Once Anakin was gone, Obi-wan tried to convince himself to sleep. Of course, after all of 4 minutes of laying on his back in the dark, he gave up, and walked down the medical ward as quickly as his legs would take him.

He didn’t expect Satine to be awake. He only wished to see her soft form laying there, covered and safe. Perhaps he would watch the soft rise and fall of her body as she breathed.

When he arrived, however, Satine was staring out the window out onto the brightly colored Coruscant skyline. When she heard Obi-wan at the door, she turned—and immediately he could sense her panic.

“No, don’t look at me like this,” she said in a breathy, gravelly voice, pulling the sheet over her neck—up to her mouth.

“See you like what, my darling??” he whispered, moving towards her.

That was when Obi-Wan noticed bruises from the choke hold forming on Satine's neck and chest—black and purple markings reaching up even as far as her jawline. Anger spiked in the Jedi's heart… but anger for who? The perpetrators were dead. He forced himself to release the emotion on a long exhale. He smiled at her gently, sitting beside her on the medical bed.

“You think me as hollow as to care about something so temporary, my love?”

 “I think many things, Ben. Thing’s I cannot share with you.”

“You can share anything with me,” he whispered, inadvertently reaching out, sliding his warm fingers along hers. To his surprise, she pulled her hand away.

“Satine-?” he asked. She had never purposefully pulled away from him before.

She pressed her lips together, but would not look at him.

“Thank you for saving my life, Master Jedi. For the hundredth time.”

“It is my pleasure,” he whispered. “I would spend each remaining day of my life saving yours. If that was what you wished. What you wanted.”

“Of course it’s not what I want. If it was the only way to see you, then yes, of course, but I would prefer if we could…”

But Satine did not finish her thought. In the silence, he went to take her hand again, and again, she pulled away.

“Satine, why won’t you let me—“

“Touch you?” she snapped, turning her head. Obi-wan blinked. “Would you like me to tell you why, Master Jedi?”

“You're upset with me...” he concluded. "Why? What have I done?"

“I pull away because every touch from you is like searing hot fire. I know I can have no more than your hand in mine, or your arms carrying me from some burning building. Perhaps a kiss on my cheek when no one is looking. But no more than that. And you—you like to pretend we were not utterly obsessed with each other when you were but 20. You like to pretend we were never—”

“No, I don't deny it. We were. We did. I would never deny our—“

“Affair?”

“It was not an affair, Satine. We were young and deeply in love. An affair implies betrayal.”

 “Were you not betraying the Jedi?”

Obi-Wan opens his mouth to speak but falls silent. Force, she had a way with words.

“I meditate on this often. We can discuss it in great detail when you're feeling—“

“Have you taken other lovers since? Since your year in my bed?” she said, interrupting him.

“Satine—“

“ _Have you?_ ” she demanded.

“Of course not,” he whispered.

There was a moment of silence. Obi-Wan knew it was time for him to ask the same question of her, and yet, he did not want to. He felt he knew the answer already. She was beautiful. She was royalty. She was perfection.

“Have… you?” he finally muttered, staring down. His eyes grew misty. He did not want to know the answer.

“No,” she said without hesitation. Obi-wan’s head shot up.

“What?”

“I said I had not.”

Obi-Wan just stared at her, dumbfounded. “But... how? You… you’re… you’re… so...”

“I’m so?”

“Beautiful,” Obi-wan whispered.

Satine smiled, staring down at their tangled hands. “You don’t understand women, do you, my love?”

“Clearly not,” he admitted.

“Well, you see, I love you. And women in love do not take other lovers.”

Her words hung on the air like ambrosia on the lips of starving man. Obi-wan was shaking. His heart _burned_. He stared at her, waiting for more.

“I have tried to overcome my love for you, Ben. I have tried for years. Perhaps someday. When I have healed, I will take another lover.”

“No—please don’t,” he whispered before realizing it.

She reached up, and stroked his face, gently running her thumb along the fiery course red beard. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. But it did not last long. A moment later her hand left his cheek, and he could feel her energy pull away.

 “Leave me,” she said finally, turning away.

 “Leave you?” he asked incredulously, grabbing her hand again, “No, Satine. That is the last thing I wish to do.” He leaned forward, and before he knew it, his lips were on her cheeks, kissing away two hot tears that had fallen. “Why are you crying? Please, tell me why? I am here, Satine. I cannot make myself simply leave this time. There has been too much come to pass between us. I yearn to be in your company and I—“

“I told you to go, Master Jedi,” she said again.

Obi-wan didn’t understand. He felt tears well up in his own eyes.

“Why—why are you pushing me away? Why do you keep calling me Master Jedi? That is not our… that is not what you call me.”

 “And yet it is what you are, is it not? You belong to the Jedi. Not to me. You only came to save me because they instructed you to.”

“That’s not true!” he protested immediately, he softly held her face and whispered to her, “I disobeyed them. They explicitly told me not to become involved, but I disobeyed. And I would do it again. And again. For you.”

She was quiet, and considered his words, and leaned forward, their forehead’s gently touching. The relief he experienced when they were close almost frightened him.

“You do not love me as I love you, Obi-Wan. That is why I told you to leave,” she admitted.

 “Have you gone mad?” he whispered, “Of course I love you—more passionately than I have ever loved another person,” he said. “Since my year on Mandalore, not a day has gone by that I haven't thought of you. You haunt my dreams,” he chuckled. “Qui-Gon used to have to sit with me, and calm me from my crying for you.”

“For me?” she whispered, smiling gently. Obi-wan nodded bashfully.

“I heard him once, telling the other Jedi Masters that if my grief went on for much longer, he would suggest I take a leave of absence from the Jedi, and return to you. That perhaps we were not listening to what the Force was telling us.”

“…But you stopped. After overhearing those words,” she said.

“Not at all. Qui-Gon was killed soon after. And Anakin was put in my keeping.”

Hearing this, Satine feel a bit silly, and selfish, but a moment later, she felt Obi-wan’s fingers under her chin, tilting her head upwards. The Jedi leaned forward and kissed her slowly—innocently at first, but then used his index finger to softly press her mouth open at the chin. Satine’s arms instinctively draped around Obi-wan’s neck, as the kiss continued. To him, she tasted of sweet water and cherry blossom, of autumn and a hint of apple. This was what he wanted. This was what he had dreamed of hundreds of times.

“Stop,” she whispered, pulling away.

Obi-wan’s heart sunk, but he did as she asked.

“I don’t understand,” he begged, “You no longer find my form appealing? Have I not aged to your liking? I will shave the beard if you dislike it so.”

“No,” she said, “You don’t understand. It’s not that I _don’t_ want you. It’s that I cannot _stop_ wanting you.”

“Satine, I am here"

“But I cannot keep you!!” she shouted.

There was a moment of silence. He stared into her eyes and breathed in her words. Another life flashed before him. A life on Mandalore as her husband and personal bodyguard—A Prince-Consort to her Highness. No more Jedi robes. No lightsaber. Armor and a blaster, instead. But in exchange, a life of softness, a life of laughter and lovemaking. A life filled with their children. Red haired and giggling as they played. He shook free of the pleasant vision a moment later, and refocused on his lover.

“I told you once, not long ago, that I would have left the Jedi Order for you, Satine. Did you think I was speaking in jest?”

“No,” she whispered, “But you were speaking of times past. Of your time as a Padawan. Ten years ago. You did not mean now.

“Didn't I?”

She looked up. “You would still leave the order for me?” she whispered.

He paused. He stared into her eyes and felt a jab of fear. This was not fear of commitment—not fear to give himself to Satine as a lover and husband. But fear of change. He had never known any life other than that of a Jedi. He remembers no childhood without Master Yoda, the Temple, the council, and Master Qui-Gon. He would truly be leaving everything. Everything he had ever known.

In the same regard, he knew that if he denied her in this moment, there was very little chance she would ever forgive him, and their relationship would end forever. Although Obi-wan did not wish to admit it, her tender messages and their secret correspondence kept him going. They had never been love letter, per-say, but rather, gentle notes they sent back and forth sprinkled with adoration for each other. When he could not sleep at night, and mediation fell short, it was thoughts of Satine that lulled him to sleep… thoughts of an imagined future where Jedi could take wives. Imaginings that he knew were dangerous, but indulged in regardless. He had to say something. Something that would ease her worry, keep her close to him, but allow him to slowly phase himself out of his old life. How could he do this--what could he say?

“After the war is over, my love,” Obi-wan finally whispered. “I am a general, and I wish to see the Republic at peace before I leave the Jedi.”

“The war could go on for years--decades!” Satine shouted.

Obi-Wan took hold of her face in his hands, “Love, please. Please be reasonable!”

She leaned forward onto his shoulder and started to sob. Obi-Wan wrapped his arms around her and softly stroked her silky blonde hair.

“When the war is over, I will leave the Order, I swear it. I will be your consort and your husband if you wish. But until then, it does not mean you don’t still have my heart. You and I can… conduct ourselves in secret if you wish.”

He could not believe the words had come from his mouth after he said them. Satine stopped crying and looked up at him. Their blue eyes met, and he gave a bit of a smirk.

"In... secret?" she asked.

“Well, yes. My—my Padawan does so with senator Amidala.”

“What!?”

“Shhhh,” he chuckles, gently kissing her lips. “Anakin insists I deserve to be happy. I have never thought of myself of deserving of anything, and I do not believe myself deserving of you, either. But I do _love_ you. And I _want_ you. More desperately that I have ever wanted anything, save the end to this war.”

Satine smiled and kissed him again. This kiss was different--long and slow, and left them both shaky, flushed, and aroused.

“Master Jedi, are asking me to have a secret love affair with you?” she asked, trembling. Obi-wan swallowed hard.

“I’m asking you to be mine,” he whispered, “But, I told you, my love. I don’t like the word affair.”

 

~~~

 


	2. I Cannot Fight You Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After convincing Satine to conduct a love affair with him in secret, Obi-Wan receives some surprising news from the Jedi Council

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Intimacy will come in the next chapter. I promise ;)
> 
> I own nothing. 
> 
> Comments encouraged. I love reading them. <3

 

 

The following morning, Obi-Wan woke up next to Satine. He was curled beside her on the edge of the medical bed. When he realized where he was, he sat up immediately—how had he allowed himself to fall asleep here? He looked towards the door and saw no one, but was quite worried about who had seen them in the night. He stood up, walked quietly into the hallway, and checked the nurse’s log hanging outside the room.  Obi-Wan was relieved to find that only one night nurse had come by—not enough to raise any real questions. He sighed with relief.

A few moments later he was commed.

[Council meeting in 20 minutes. Your usually early. Just checking.]

Again, Anakin's improper use of "your" made Obi-Wan bite his tongue. He immediately put his com away and gently kissed Satine’s forehead. She was still sleeping, but he did not have the time to wake her and explain. He would have to contact her later.

He was on a transport within a few minutes, and at the temple within ten. As he walked towards the Council room, he saw Anakin standing outside. Immediately his Padawan looked him up and down with a raised eyebrow. Obi-Wan didn’t understand at first, but when he looked down at his clothing, he realized everything he was wearing was—well—Anakin’s.

“Ooh, not good,” he whispered.

“You have 5 minutes. Go. Now,” Anakin said, looking at his timekeeper.

Obi-Wan nodded. He had made more mistakes in the last 24 hours than he had made in a number of years before then. He gently squeezed Anakin’s shoulder as he walked off to a nearby elevator. Anakin chuckled and turned towards him.

“How many times is that, now, Master? 13?”

“Twelve. Stop counting the time on Cato-Nemoidia.”

 

 ~~~

 

The Council meeting was straightforward and dry. Anakin and Obi-Wan reported on the rebuilding of Geonosis, and Obi-Wan was asked a few complex questions about the political situation on Mandalore. The Duchess was not mentioned, and Obi-Wan most certainly did not bring her up. His last encounter with Master Windu and Yoda consisted of his practically begging for their approval to save the Duchess, which, of course, they would not give. Mandalore’s neutrality made any interference on the part of the Republic impossible.

But Obi-Wan had gone behind their backs.

It was the first time he had done something so blatantly disobedient. And there he stood, a grow man of 32, terrified that the Council would somehow see through him—know his secret, and punish him accordingly.

“Good work you have done, Master Obi-Wan,” Yoda said towards the end of the meeting.

“And you as well, young Skywalker,” added Master Windu.

“Thank you, Masters,” said Anakin.

“Go, you may, young Skywalker. Rest today. Speak to Master Obi-Wan alone, we must.”

Obi-Wan’s heart leaped into his throat, and he froze. The cold hand of fear crept up from his belly into his chest. Obi-Wan thought he had done a fine job of keeping calm, collected and clear headed—but apparently, he hadn’t done enough. He had no idea how they found him out, or what would be in store as a punishment. What horrible assignment would they send him on as penance for his disobedience? Perhaps they would send him to investigate slave trade routes on the outer rim. In the heat. For years…

He glanced over to Anakin, who had his lips pursed up to the side—an expression of disappointment he had sometimes worn as a boy from time to time, as if to say “I’m sorry Master, I did everything I could…”

Anakin bowed to the Council and left without another word.

Obi-Wan was absolutely still, waiting for the worst. His heart was beating so loudly, he swore the other Masters could hear it.

“Nervous, you are, Master Obi-Wan,” Yoda said to him, pointing a crooked finger in his direction.

Obi-Wan smiled bashfully, and chuckled. “Yes, Master, I am. A bit.”

“More than a bit, I think,” Yoda responded. “Why might that be?”

Obi-Wan stared down at the floor. “I’m not quite sure,” he lied. “I’m hoping I’m not in any trouble?” he asked.

“Any reason you might be in trouble, Master Kenobi?” asked Master Windu.

Obi-Wan looked up and swallowed, “No… no of course not,” he said in a bit of a strangled whisper. There was a moment of silence. You could have heard a pin drop.

“A bit of fear I sense in you, Master Kenobi. Strange for you. Sensed such a feeling in you before, I have not. All right everything is?” asked Yoda.

At Yoda’s kind words, Obi-Wan relaxed a bit. Even if they did know what he had done—these were still his friends. And what could they do? Expel him? If they did, he knew exactly where he would go. He used the moment to clear his mind, and relax his nerves.

“I am sorry. I simply didn’t expect a private audience this morning. Apologies. It simply took me off guard. But Masters, do tell me, why have I been asked to stay behind?”

“Master Kenobi, you are perhaps our most valued resource in the field. But that is not what we need to speak to you about. Look around you. Our Council is thin. We need you back here—back on the Council and in the temple. There are whispers of attacks here in our home, and we need someone responsible here to protect the initiates.”

Obi-Wan was shocked. He opened his mouth to speak, but couldn’t for a moment. He noticed the empty chairs in the council room. These were all Master Jedi who had been assigned to specific missions on behalf of the Republic for the war effort.

“Initiates? I--I don’t understand, Masters, have I disappointed you in some way?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Not at all,” said Master Windu.

“With all due respect, my fellow members, but--is it not the responsibility of Grand Master Yoda and Master Windu to oversee the proceedings you describe?”

Obi-Wan heard Master Yoda sigh before the he opened his mouth to speak.

“Never before in our history, here at the Temple, so few Jedi there have been. Nearly every Knight and every Master, on a mission has been sent. But Initiates we still have, and Padawan’s we still have. Far too young to accompany their Master’s on missions so dangerous our Padawans are. So many young ones without guidance! Need more than simply myself and Master Windu, we do. Need someone kind, and patient, and understanding. Need you, we do, Master Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan stared down at the marble floor of the Council room. He felt a bit silly at his previous reaction. Although Obi-Wan had adventure in his blood, and much enjoyed being out in the field of battle with Anakin and Ahsoka, he also knew Master Yoda enough to understand his stance on Jedi education. For Yoda, the training a Jedi received before he or she was 12 years old was far more important than anything taught afterwards. He himself taught all Initiates between the ages of 4 and 10—a very important time in the life of a Jedi—or so Yoda always said. This was the time hate and anger were learned—or not learned, if the child is trained properly. Yoda's views on the kindness, caring, and attention for all children were extraordinary, and Obi-Wan knew Yoda’s asking this of him meant the Grand Master thought highly of him. It was actually a great compliment.

Yoda stood, and walked towards Obi-Wan. He stopped just a foot or two away, leaning on his cane and smiling softly.

“Remember our lessons, do you, Obi-Wan? When but a little child you were?”

“Well, I suppose I remember a few, Master, but—“

All of a sudden, Yoda projected an image—a flashback into Obi-Wan’s mind. A moment from his young life—a night in the crèche when he was no more than 5 years old, sobbing, and huddled near a small wall light along the floor. All of the other children were asleep. But standing there beside him with a gentle hand on his shoulder was Yoda.

_“Why cry you, young Padawan?”_

_“I don’t—want—to go—to sleep,”_

_“Yes, I know… I know. Never wish to sleep, you do, Obi-Wan. Come. Again, tell Yoda why not you wish to sleep.”_

_“Because—because—the crèche sleeping rooms—are so—dark—they’re—so dark…”_

_“Frightened of the darkness, are you?”_

Obi-Wan nodded, hot tears rolling down his soft, perfect little 5-year-old face.

_“And yet, alone you are not. Beside you your friends are. Close by your care-takers are.”_

_“But—I cannot—see them—Master…”_

Yoda gently held the boys hand.

_“But feel them, you can. Reach out and feel them beside you with the Force.”_

_“Yes, Master Yoda, but…”_

_“Shhh—come now. Sit beside your bunk I shall until you fall asleep. Promise this, I do. Come…”_

And Obi-Wan was jerked back to the present moment.

“Forget how important these early moments are, have you?”

Obi-Wan swallowed. A bit of embarrassment clawed at his throat.

“I suppose I have forgotten, Master,” he admitted.

“Then what say you, Master Kenobi? Help us, will you? Here at the Temple, where needed, you are?”

Obi-Wan stared down at his small Master, and although he had come here today to express his plans to slowly begin moving away from the order, the expression on Yoda’s face was one of desperation.

In his mind, he gently heard the voice of his Padawan,

“Blessings in disguise, Master…”

This meant two things. One, that Anakin was still looking out for him, and two, that Anakin was literally listening in at the council door. Obi-Wan couldn’t roll his eyes at that moment, but he sure wanted to.

“Of course, Master Yoda,” Obi-Wan heard himself say with a smile, “Of course I will stay here and help you with our young ones.”

 

~~~

 

Obi-Wan met up with Anakin a few moments after he left the Council. They walked together towards the grand entrance of the temple.

“Well, Anakin, it seems I’ve been grounded. No more grand adventures for us. At least for a while.”

Anakin smiled, “I told you, Master, blessings in disguise.”

“And you shouldn’t be listening in at the Council room door,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Oh, I’ve been doing it for years," Anakin said nonchalantly.

“They probably all know…”

“Of course they all know,” Anakin said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Anakin, I know you’re… aware of my current predicament. Because of our conversation last night, and now, you're saying that this turn of events is a blessing… It’s fairly obvious.”

Anakin shrugged, “I told you, Master. I want you to be happy.”

“I know that, but sometimes happiness is not black or white. You know very well from your training, that many times—most times—we must do things we don’t want to do in order to create healthy and calm minds later.”

“Master, that doesn’t mean cutting yourself off from the woman you love.”

“Shhhh,” Obi-Wan said, panicking a bit, and ducking into an alcove.

“Master, no one can hear us. No one is even around.”

“Precautions…”

“Master. Do you love Satine?”

Obi-Wan looked way, and down at the floor. Was this something he should be discussing with Anakin at all? He swallowed and searched for the words, “I—well—I—“

“Master...”

“Yes! I do. Yes.”

“Then use this time to be with her. You’re smart, Master. You trained me, and I’m not an idiot, am I?”

“No of course not. But sometimes I think...”

“You think what?”

“That much of your skill and cleverness is innate, Padawan. They all still say you are The Chosen One.”

Anakin rolled his eyes. “Whatever that means.”

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Whatever that means, indeed."

“All I’m saying, is that you’re smart enough to conduct this quietly on your own. The only thing standing in your way is your own guilt. And fear.”

“Fear? Of what?” Obi-Wan asked, a bit offended.

“Of being found out.”

“Well, yes. I suppose you’re right. Aren’t you afraid of being found out, Anakin?”

Anakin’s expression became a bit darker. “I suppose I am. But… Padme and I—our relationship is different. If I was expelled, I would have a fulfilling life at her side.”

“Or at Palpatine’s side.”

“Politics are an option, yes.”

“It would be a waste, Anakin. You are a superb Jedi.”

“Yes, yes, I know. But we only think that because we have been taught that being a Jedi is the only path towards meaning. But what if there were no Jedi, Master? How would you define yourself?”

“What are you talking about?” Obi-Wan whispered.

Anakin rolled his eyes, “Nothing malicious master—It’s just a philosophical quandary. Just think--hypothetically, if there were no Jedi Order tomorrow. If it all just disappeared, or they decided to disband—who would you be? Do you know who are you without them?”

Obi-Wan thought about this a moment, staring off into space, and in that moment, he came to the realization that... he didn't. He didn't know who he was without the Jedi. At all.

“I’m not… quite sure,” he admitted.

“I know,” said Anakin.

“You _know_?” Obi-Wan asked. He didn’t know if he was shocked or offended.

“Take away the Jedi, and what do you have left, Master?”

“I have… you. And Satine, and… Qui-Gon. Or my memory of him.”

“People you love.”

“Yes,” he whispered.

“So love them,” Anakin said. “Your love for them remains with or without the Jedi, and so, you should love them. With or without the Jedi. And stop being ashamed of it.”

"When did you become so wise, Padawan?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Honestly, Master? Women. Padme specifically. Women will teach you a great deal about life.'"

Anakin gave his classic mischievous smirk, and walked off in the other direction.

Obi-Wan had never felt so unsure.

 

~~~

 

“Obi-Wan!” Padme said with a smile, standing up from her desk to give him a gentle hug. “What a pleasant surprise.”

“Is this a bad time, Senator?” he asked.

“Never a bad time for a friend,” she replied, “I was just about to have tea. Will you join me?”

It was lunchtime, and Obi-Wan had come to see Satine, but he did not want to be rude.

“Of course, Senator, that would be lovely.”

“And where is Anakin today?” she asked, leading Obi-Wan out of her office and to the beautiful dining room table in the common room of her apartments.

“He’s been deployed to Togoria. But the fighting there is not terribly rough. I wouldn't worry, Padme, he has been in far worse battles. And now he has Ahsoka to look after him.”

“Isn’t he supposed to look after Ahsoka?” she asked.

Obi-Wan chuckled. “Much like Anakin as a child, her capabilities exceed her years. They are a good pair.”

A moment later, they were served tea and a light lunch of soup, bread, and fruit.

 “Yes, but it only takes one shot from a blaster, Obi-Wan I worry… about you both. And little Ahsoka as well.” she said, sipping her tea.

“I understand. You and Anakin have always been close. But I promise, he is a far more talented and wiser Jedi than you know. He will be fine.”

Obi-Wan was too anxious to eat, but he tried. Padme, however, seemed to be rather ravenous.

“I am sure you are here to see Satine,” Padme finally said, a few minutes into the meal. Obi-Wan almost choked on his tea.

“Yes—I am. I was. I don’t mean to rush, I simply—“

“She’s well. You need not worry. No other injuries besides her bruises. I just spoke with her, but I’m afraid she’s already on her way back to Mandalore.”

“Back to Mandalore!?” Obi-Wan cried, standing up “That’s insanity! She cannot go back! The crime families are out of control. She must stay here until some kind of order has been restored.”

“Obi-Wan, please—she wishes to be with her people during this time of need! Any leader would want to be. I did, when I was Queen.”

“Yes, but--you had two Jedi by your side to protect you! This is an entirely different situation. Such a decision is suicide! When did she leave?” Obi-Wan demanded.

“She was here not 20 minutes ago. I’m sure the ship is still loading. If you hurry, you might—“

"So sorry to leave so quickly, my friend," he said to Padme, leaving the table.

And with that, Obi-Wan was already running out the door.

 

~~~

 

“Wait!—Stop—Duchess, Wait!” Kenobi shouted, running up the landing platform. Satine and a few guards of her guards were making their way towards the departing ship.

When Satine turned and saw him, she paused. “Go on,” she told her men, “I will be along shortly.”

The men did as instructed, and left Satine with the Master Jedi. They had seen him before, and knew it was safe to leave her with him.

“… Be along shortly? Have you gone mad!?” Obi-Wan shouted as he approached, “Duchess, I won’t allow this! I rescued you not a day ago!”

Satine stayed calm and collected. She let him shout, and when he was done, she looked up into his eyes.

“Yes. You did rescue me, and I thanked you for it. I did notice, however, that you had already left when I woke. I simply assumed—“

“Do not assume,” Obi-Wan snapped, taking her hand in his. “I had a Council meeting, Satine. I came back as soon as I could.”

Satine glanced to the ship. Her pilot was waiting about 30 feet away—pretending not to listen to their conversation.

“Satine please,” Obi-Wan whispered, “This is madness, you cannot go back to Mandalore.”

“I must. They are my people,” she said, gently pulling away from him, but Obi-Wan kept hold of her.

His voice became more of a whimper, “No…” he cried, and slid his other hand around her waist. “What of our conversation last night,” he whispered, “Do you not remember?”

“You were not serious. Your plea for us to wait until the war is over was your answer.”

“No! That was no my intention!” he said.

“Obi-Wan” she said sternly, “These crime families must be dealt with, and within a few days, you will be sent away to fight some other world in this terrible—“

“I wont be sent! I’ve been grounded here, my love. Indefinitely. They won’t send me away. I won’t be fighting at all!”

Satine stared at him, raising an eyebrow. This was new information.

“How did you manage to pull that off?” she whispered.

“I’m clever,” he said, smirking.

He leaned in, and kissed her deeply. He did not care who saw. It was soft and sweet, and nearly made Obi-Wan dizzy. They did not stop until they needed to breath, and Obi-Wan softly pressed his forehead to hers.

“Stay,” he begged. “Padme will help you combat Deathwatch and the Crime families from here on Coruscant. It’s much safer to do it this way. And perhaps you can… consider… joining the Republic. If you join, we will be able to swiftly destroy these crime families and—“

A moment later, Obi-Wan felt Satine push him away wish a harsh shove.

“So THIS is what it’s all been about!?” she cried out.

Her pilot stepped forward to help, but Satine turned to him, “Stay where you are!" she shouted. "This is none of your business—Go! Get on the ship. This Jedi and I are—what I mean to say is—you don’t have to worry about us! Leave us be!”

The pilot put his hands up in defense. “Apologies my lady—I’ll be waiting on board,” he said, and disappeared up the entrance ramp.

Satine turned back to Obi-Wan.

“I cannot believe you,” she said.

“Satine--I'm sorry I said anything--I swear, that’s not what this has been about! I only suggest it because I truly believe in Democracy and I want to help you! I want you to stay because I want to end your people’s suffering!” He realized he was shouting rather loudly—but Satine continued to stare at him. “And yes…” he added quietly, “For personal reasons.”

"Damn you!" she shouted, and kissed him again. A bit harder this time--almost out of anger. He did not mind. He wrapped his arms around her and all he could think of was how desperately he wanted to take his gloves off--to feel the sensation of her skin under the fabric of that beautiful dress.

When she pulled back, her lips were rosy and swollen and her breath came in shallow gasps.

“Stay…” he whispered, “I’ll be able to see you each day. I’ll help you destroy these crime families. I promise,” he said.

Of course he had no idea how he would do all of this, but in that moment, he would have done anything to keep her there. Satine had gone a bit soft in his arms, and he had to hold her up.

“Yes,” she finally whispered, “Yes--I cannot fight you anymore, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Yes, I will stay.” And she kissed him again.

 


	3. Not as Young as We Used to Be.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After 10 long years apart, Satine and Obi-Wan finally get their first moments alone...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing
> 
> Comments encouraged. I enjoy them, so. :)

 

On the official log, the trip back to Mandalore was called off due to “Security Concerns." This was something Satine had told her pilot to enter into the system, and was completely untrue.

Satine went upstairs, and expressed to Padme that she had changed her mind about leaving—that Master Kenobi had convinced her the trip was too dangerous, and that she had agreed to stay on Coruscant until further notice. Padme understood, and informed Chancellor Palpatine immediately.

Because Satine was not a senator, so she could not stay in the actual senate building. But Palpatine, immediately sent two of his men to accompany the Duchess and her guards to a nearby scraper where politicians, ambassadors, and stayed when visiting the Senate. A kind message from the Chancellor explained that Satine was free to stay there indefinitely, and he invited her to dinner with him the following day. She graciously accepted.

Obi-Wan sat impatiently in the speeder he had arrived in, waiting to be commed by his lover, but received no message for nearly an hour. Finally, she patched through her specific address, and Obi-Wan nearly went running.

A few people greeted him as he nearly ran through the lobby of the busy building.

“Master Jedi,” he was always greeted with—and only nodded kindly in response.

Finally, he stood at her door—one of her men standing outside the room in his armor.  The man stared at her. He gave an awkward smile…

“She… sent for me,” he explained.

“She talks of little else,” the man said.

Obi-Wan was quite shocked to hear this—but just then, the door slid open. Satine stood there, wearing a soft yellow dress with a white sash and collar and soft green embroidery along the bodice. It might have been a nightdress, if not for how tight it was pulled around her tiny waist. Her hair was loose, and down. She wore no head dress. She was barefoot. Obi-Wan had not seen her like this since he was a Padawan. He swallowed hard just looking at her.

Then he noticed the blaster in her hand.

“Come in,” she said, and he did so. The door shut and simply stared at her.

“You do not need that,” he whispered, gesturing to the gun.

“I had no idea who it was at the door,” she said.

“You are a pacifist,” Obi-Wan said.

“I won’t be murdered in my sleep.”

“You sleep… with a blaster?” he asked incredulously. Had it truly come to this?

“These days, I do,” She said, softly setting the weapon down.

“No more, Satine. I will send—“

 “Send who? You cannot send anyone. No one even knows you’re here.”

And she was right. In that moment, Obi-Wan realized the powerlessness that came with secrecy. He stared down, realizing there was nothing he could do.

“I’m so sorry my love. I will protect you as much as I can.”

“I know you will,” she whispered, stepping closer to him.

He gently reached up and touched her face, leaning down to kiss her. It was a gentle kiss at first but became hungry, and desperate as the moment wore on.

She was the one to reach down and began to undress him. She remembered how it was done from their time on Mandalore when he was a Padawan. The belt was first—they fumbled with it together, trying to both kiss and undress at the same time. A moment later, they heard the clatter of his lightsaber on the marble floor.

At that point, Obi-Wan began to undress Satine as well—Reaching behind her to unlace the back of her dress, which he did with ease.

Satine slid her soft white hands into Obi-Wans robes, unfolding each layer, and letting it fall to the floor. First the sash, then the outer robe, and then, she pulled the tunic up over his head. Soon, his torso was exposed, and he wore nothing but his leggings and boots.

She stopped—her breath taken away by his beautiful form. She pulled back to look at him. He looked different after 10 years. Before, he had been a young man on the verge of adulthood. At 22, his muscles were still developing. Soft and boyish. Now, 10 years later, none of that boyishness remained. His body was firmly cut—taut muscle all down his chest and along his arms. There were more scars—many more, since she had last seen him this way. She finally reached out and ran her soft white hands along his chest. She could hear him breathing, shallow, staring at her. He reached up and took her wrist, pressing her palm to his chest.

“I have more scars,” he whispered apologetically.

“Do you think me so shallow to care about scars? You’re beautiful. So beautiful,” she whispered, leaning forward and softly pressing her lips to one of the scars just below his collarbone. She tasted his skin, running her tongue lovingly along the mark, and Obi-Wan moaned at the warmth of her soft tongue on his body.

He had finally unlaced the dress, and slowly pulled it down, revealing her form. Satine let the yellow dress fall to the floor, and beneath it there was nothing. Obi-Wan's mouth fell open... but a moment later, and without warning, Satine felt overly exposed. For some reason, she was more bashful than she assumed she would be.

When they were lovers before, Obi-Wan was 22, and she had just turned 19. The connection was immediate. They saw each other across the room, and Obi-Wan’s first thought had been, _“Please, let her not be the Duchess,”_ just as Satine’s first thought had been, _“Please, let him not be the Master Jedi.”_

In Satine’s case, Obi-Wan was not the Master Jedi, but he was still a Jedi all the same.

Since then, she had had no lovers, and no physical contact with men. Her romantic life had been fantasies, mostly of Obi-Wan, and what life would have been like by his side.

Obi-Wan was in heaven, staring at her beauty, and only noticed only one small change—she was thinner. Years of stress, mental anguish, and hard work had made his lover a bit too thin. He could see her ribs on her sides, under her breasts. Back in their younger days, Satine had been carefree, and a bit plumper…

The moment after her dress fell, and Obi-Wan's fingers traced along her ribs, Satine realized she was not the same young girl she had once been. It was as if she all of a sudden remembered she had aged 10 years. She pulled away, covering herself with her small hands, and turning from him.

“Oh Gods—oh Gods, I’m sorry… I not… I can’t…” she cried.

He was jarred out of his trance when she moved away—“What? Satine, no!” he whispered, reaching out to stop her, and wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. “Shhh—Satine, my love… what is wrong?” he whispered, pressing his lips to her shoulder, softly kissing her neck.

“I—I am not like I was…” she whispered.

Obi-Wan chuckled, “Nor am I. We are grown, now. But you have only grown more beautiful. I've told you that before.”

“You—you are lying,” she sobbed.

“I’m not. Jedi don’t lie.”

He kissed her neck again, and again, sucking on the soft skin, and running his tongue gently along the shell of her ear.

She could not help but moan, and lean her head away to give him access to her pale neck. He continued until he felt her body relax, and her hands fall away from covering her breasts. Instead, he reached up and softly cupped one of her breasts in his own calloused hand , gingerly running his middle finger along her nipple in a gentle, circular motion until it hardened under his touch.

“Mmmm,” he moaned into his kisses, “Let me see you, Satine,” he whispered, gently pressing his body against her from behind. She could feel his hard cock through the leggings now, pressing insistently against her ass. “Let me love you…”

Feeling his hardness against her was actually a comfort—a reassurance, that he still wanted her, and when his hands left her body for a moment, she knew he was taking the moment to undress completely. She heard his boots being removed, and even the soft sound of the fabric leggings hitting the floor.

He placed his rough hands on her body again, running them along her midsection and hips, and slowly turned her around to face him. He met her eyes and kissed her deeply before his eyes began to roam across her body once again.

“You’re trembling,” she whispered.

“Yes… I am nervous," he admitted.

“What about, my love?”

“That I have forgotten how to please you. That I will not be as wonderful as you remember.”

She shook her head and kissed him again, “Nonsense. And if we have forgotten, then we shall re-teach each other, as we did the first time.”

She wrapped her arms around him, his hardness pressing against her belly as they explored each other’s mouths again.

She was the one to finally reach down and take his hard cock into her hand. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply. She watched his expression change as she stroked him a bit, using her thumb to spread the pre-spend from his body along the shaft and tip. She watched his expression change as the sensation went from being a bit foreign, to perfect, and delicious…

“Oh, Force yes,” he whimpered, leaning down and kissing her neck again. But a moment later, Obi-Wan grew impatient, and gently pulled her over to the huge bed in the center of the room.

He sat down on the ornate comforter, with her standing before him. He pulled her in front of him. This allowed him to give better attention to her breasts and midsection with his mouth. She ran her fingers through his hair, and tugged softly while he sucked on her breasts, and ran his tongue along the valley between them.

He was gentle as he pulled her into his lap, and laid her on the bed. He crawled over her, placing kisses on her collarbone and mouth before sitting back a bit, and looking down into her eyes. They only smiled at each other, and Obi-Wan took that as a signal that it was all right to begin kissing down her body… along her chest, between her breasts, down her soft stomach, to her pelvic bone, where he dwelled and for a moment,before softly putting his hands under her knees, and pulling her legs up and open. He then leaned down and kissed along the soft thatch of blonde hair between her legs, placing one of her legs over his shoulder to accommodate his mouth and tongue...

When they had been lovers before, they had spent nearly every night together. When Qui-Gon was asleep, Obi-Wan wandered down the hall (of wherever they were) and joined Satine in her bed. There—she taught him what she liked, and although he was slightly less inclined to tell her what he liked (because he was there to protect her), she eventually convinced him that their nights together were about mutual pleasure.

Although he had not been with a woman in a decade, he had done this to her dozens of times before.

“Obi-Wan…” she moaned, tangling her fingers in his hair. “…Yes—there—yes.” She whispered, involuntarily arching her hips up to his mouth. He looked up from what he was doing, quite pleased with himself.

“I haven’t forgotten, then?” he asked, his beard glistening obscenely.

“No,” she chuckled, “Although the beard adds a bit of sensory strangeness…” she said, reaching down and tugging at it playfully.

“You like it,” he accused.

“I don’t!” she protested, and they both laughed before Obi-Wan, and ducked down to continue his good work. He slipped two fingers inside her, and she moaned at the welcome intrusion as he continued to use his mouth.

A few minutes later, she was shivering and gripping the bed sheets. Her hips arched off the bed as she came with Obi-Wan’s name on her lips.

Obi-Wan eased her through her orgasm, and then climbed up her body to lay beside her for a moment. Unsatisfied that he had stopped, she turned and tried to pull him back over her body. He willingly complied, and he pressed his hips between her open legs. He gently sucked on her earlobe for a moment before whispering hotly again her ear, “Is this what you want, my love?” pressing his hard cock against her folds.

Satine nodded, and Obi-Wan reached between them easing himself inside slowly. She clenched and squirmed a bit—he was not small and it had been a decade. Obi-Wan immediately stopped.

“Not quite yet, then,” he said, kissing her neck.

“No—just—just go slow,” she insisted.

“I won’t hurt you—“

“I’m not asking you to.”

Obi-Wan did as she asked, moving as slowly as he could—this was difficult for him, but years of Jedi training had given him a great deal of control—which came in handy at the moment.  It was still a bit painful for Satine but she did her best to relax with a bit of coaxing, and Obi-Wan’s delicate nothings whispered in her ear. Despite all this, he would still feel her clenching, and so he reached down between them to ease her pain with a wet middle finger on her clit.

“Would it please you to know how often I think about making love to you? How often it’s thoughts of your softness, your body, and your voice moaning my name that help me fall asleep?”

Satine moaned at this—it did help. Soon they were moving together, hips rolling against each other faster and faster. Obi-Wan held off his orgasm for as long as he could, not only for the pleasure it brought, but also because he wanted to make her come again. He knew when she was close of course—another advantage of his Jedi abilities. Afterwards they laid together, catching their breath and basking in the soft hum of their afterglow. He held her slightly damp body in his arms and she laid against his chest.

Obi-Wan only realized in that moment how thoughtless he had been back out on the landing platform. He had kissed Satine—held her, grabbed her, and argued with her in public. In front of a pilot, and anyone else who had happened by. People might have even been watching from windows. He had truly lost himself in those moments. He was now starting to realize why romantic love, as the Council called it, was dangerous for a Jedi. Not because they the Jedi were meant to be unfeeling people, but because of how strong the emotion was, and how it could easily make one do things they didn't normally fall prey to.

“What are you thinking?” Satine whispered, softly tracing circles on Obi-Wan’s chest with her fingertips.

“That I was quite careless on the platform… but in that moment, I did not care. I am thinking about how powerful love is,” he concluded.

Satine chuckled and sat up, pulling on her silk robe and walking to the other side of the room to get a glass of water. She turned around to look at him as she sipped, the robe open, and her body visible. Ob-Wan sat up, immediately hard again…

"Show me how powerful it is," she challenged him, smirking.

“Are you laughing at me?” he asked with a smile.

“Never, Master Jedi,” she said, playing along.

He stood up and walked to her, naked and hard. Their lips crashed together in a wet, lewd kiss before he hiked one of her legs up over his hip. He pressed Satine against the nearby wall, and without being told, she wrapped both her legs around his waist. Within a moment, he was inside her. She was wet and sticky from their previous lovemaking, and this time, there was no pain. He was a bit rougher with her now, because he knew he could be. As the minutes wore on, Satine became more and more vocal, tumbling towards her orgasm.

“Ahhh—Master Jedi—yes, please…” she moaned, and Obi-Wan smiled. Their game of Princess and Jedi Master was a gross underestimation of their relationship—however accurate the terms were.

“Mmmm, please what, my Duchess?”

“Please—make me come again,” she begged, eyes heavily lidded, and body soft and open to him.

"Anything for you, my only love," he said.

Obi-Wan pulled her away from the wall and carried her to the bed, where he laid her down and crawled over her. He pulled both her hands up over her head and held them there with a Force hold while he rolled his hips slowly and gazed down into her eyes. When she tried to lower her hands down, and realized they had been bound with his “magic” as she called it, she moaned loudly—“Gods, yes—I’m—I’m—!”

They came again together loudly--and even made love once more before falling asleep in each-other’s arms.

Obi-Wan woke about an hour later to the sound of Satine puttering in the washroom. She emerged in a gorgeous burgundy and grey gown that showed her arms and shoulders. Her hair was done, and she was wearing ornate gold head dress, with tendrils of her hair wrapped around the wires.

“You… you look beautiful,” he whispered.

“Palpatine has invited me to dinner with Padme, Bail Organa and a few others.”

Obi-Wan didn’t know why, but he did not like the idea of her having dinner with the politicians. Regardless, he kept his mouth shut.

“Will you help me with this?” she said gesturing to the last few buttons on the back of her dress up between her shoulder blades. Obi-Wan approached as she turned around and expertly secured each button.

“No handmaids to help you with such things?”

“Please,” she said rolling her eyes, “I’m not Nubian.”

They both glanced towards the bed now—soiled and rumpled. The whole room smelled like sex, but before Obi-Wan could say anything, she was already headed to the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then?” he said, stepping forward. He was unsure what her response would be, and hadn’t felt so vulnerable in years, standing there naked and filthy while she was a picture of perfection in front of him.

She paused, putting on a pair of silk gloves.

“If it suits you, Master Jedi. Only if it suits, you.”

And she was gone.

 

~~~

 

Obi-Wan was standing in a room full of 5-year-olds who had never held light-sabers before.

Of all the things he had done, all the missions, all the negotiations, all of the daring rescues, all the military plots and all the secret investigations… this was perhaps the hardest task he'd ever been given.

There were only 10 younglings in this class. Many less than there had been in the past. The number of Jedi had plummeted in the past 50 years, and no one was quite sure why.

Yoda was there as well, but each child needed very personalized attention during this time. Obi-Wan went on for a while about the necessity for safety and the respect a Jedi must have for his or her weapon. The children had to be separated, each given their own little pod, so they did not accidentally hurt each other. Obi-Wan ran from one to another, helping each child hold their weapon and then begin to engage in target practice with the practice droid at the center of the room.

Three of the children were quite good at it, two of them had no interest and continually asked for snacks or story time, one kept reaching out to touch the blade (Yoda and Obi-Wan had fast enough reflexes to stop him each time), two wound up crying in frustration, and the final one—refused to touch the light-saber at all.

“… Is this how it always is?” Obi-Wan asked when the lesson was finally over, sitting on one of the tiny chairs made for the children with his head in his hands.

“Easy, this class was,” Yoda said sitting down beside him.

Obi-Wan looked up incredulously.

“You must be joking,” he said.

“Joke with you, do I ever?” asked Yoda.

Obi-wan chuckled and shook his head. “I’ve underestimated the care and patience rearing children requires. I am in awe of your work here, Master.”

“Hmmm…Exactly why I invited you here, this was. Feel, I do, that soon you may need such skills soon.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“Feel a child in your future, I do, Master Kenobi”

Obi-Wan went cold and still. He stared at Yoda blankly…

“I—I don't understand,” he said.

“Come,” Yoda said, standing and walking out of the training room. Obi-Wan followed quietly.

“Clouded the future has become due to the Clone War—know this, you do. But feel a child will soon become important in your life I do. A child you will bring to the temple, perhaps. Find him or her on one of your assignments, you may.”

But of course that was not at all what Obi-Wan was thinking at all.

“Upsetting you, this is. Upset you have been for some days now. Why, young Kenobi?” Yoda asked.

“I’ve simply been contemplating the war, Master. It is not a pleasant situation the Jedi have found themselves in,” said Obi-Wan.

“Lying to me, you are. Not like you, Obi-Wan.”

He could do nothing but be silent while the Grand Master reprimanded him. 

“Think you can fool me, you must," Yoda added

"No!" Obi-Wan protested. "Never, Master--I am sorry...I just. I don't know how to respond. I don't know what to say."

"The truth!" Yoda said. "But not here. With me, you will come now, young Kenobi. Talk about this we must.. and something important I wish to show you…”


	4. Why did you not tell me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yoda attempts to help Obi-wan overcome his attachment to the Duchess, but Satine has been keeping a secret that will make any hope of overcoming attachment impossible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feminist Obi-wan happens in this chapter, to combat casually misogynist Obi-wan in The Clone Wars TV show (See: episode where he tells Satine she is being 'hysterical")
> 
> I own nothing
> 
> Please leave comments. I love them. 
> 
> ~~~~

  
Master Yoda brought Obi-wan into a meditation room. The small Grand Master immediately sat on one of the floor cushions there in the room. He gestured for Obi-wan to sit on the other.

“Known you since you were a gurgling infant, I have. Know when you are lying, I do,” Yoda said.

Obi-wan sad down, legs crossed and smiled sadly.

“There is no other way to say this, Master. I am in love. I cannot deny it any further. I have tried for many years to meditate on this feeling, to purge it from my soul, but it is no use. I think perhaps the human instinct to love is simply… too strong. At least in my case. Or perhaps I am weak.”

“Weak you are not, Master Kenobi. Understand, I do.”

Obi-wan raised an eyebrow. “You… do?”

“Hmmph! Think because I am small and green, love, I cannot?”

Obi-wan chuckled, “No, Master. I am sorry.”

“Plan to leave us, you do,” Yoda said then, sadly looking up and out the glowing window onto the twilight.

There was a silence. Obi-wan looked down at his hands. “I do not wish to, Master. But I do not see a way around it. I understand the tenants of the Code.”

“Understand, do you? Sure, are you?” Yoda asks.

“Well… yes, Master. Attachment is forbidden. I am quite attached to the Duchess.”

“In love with the Duchess Satine of Mandalore, you are,”

“Yes, Master.”

“Started when you were a Padawan, it did.”

“Yes,” he admitted. There was no point in hiding any of it, now.

“Loves you in return, she does?”

“Very much, Master,” he whispered.

“Hmmm… yes. Spoke to us about it, Qui-gon did. Many times.”

Obi-wan looked up. This was news to him. He had once heard his Master speaking of their relationship to Tahl. But he had no idea Qui-gon had gone to the council about his personal affairs.

“Worried for you, Qui-gon was. Loved you like a son, he did. Attachment, to you he always had. Watch you in pain for much longer, he could not. Full of love, was your Master. Full of love, are you. And full of love, your Padawan is.”

“I am sorry, Master Yoda,” was all Obi-wan could muster.

“Sorry, do not be! Given the Jedi great loyalty you have. The hardest lesson to learn, this is. Unable to conquer their attachments most Jedi are.”

“Then teach me,” Obi-wan begged. “Teach me to let go of my attachment to her.”

Yoda sighed, “Taught, it cannot be. Only endured. Those we adore, the Force leads us to. Listen, sometimes, we must.”

“Master, why would the Force lead us to those we adore, if we are to deny our feelings for them?“

Yoda paused a moment, and picked up his comlink. “Wish to speak to you an old friend does—Come in now, you may, Knight Rakai,” Yoda said.

A moment later, and internal door slid open to reveal a young female Jedi. Azelle Rakai. Obi-wan knew her. She was slightly older than Anakin, but still at least five years younger than himself. She was one of the temple’s strongest physicists and mathematicians, and was sent on most missions involving scientific intelligence. Obi-wan had seen her a great deal when Anakin was in his early teens--had taught her some sparring techniques… but he had not seen her in at least three or four years. She was humanoid—a very conventionally beautiful humanoid, with bright green eyes and dark hair, and a spattering of freckles on her nose and cheeks.

She was also extremely pregnant.

“Azelle,” he whispered.

“Hello, Obi-wan,” she said with a smile.

Obi-wan immediately stood, to offer her his seat.

She laughed, “I can still stand on my own feet, you know.”

“Yes… of course,” he said, feeling a bit silly.

Yoda used the Force to drag over a third cushion for her from the perimeter of the room.

“Thank you, Master,” she said, and sat down with them.

There was an awkward silence.

“Questions, you have, Master, Kenobi?” said Yoda.

“Well I—Congratulations are first in order,” he said politely.

“Thank you,” she said gently, but without gusto.

“I’m not sure my questions would be… appropriate, Master Yoda,” he admitted.

Azelle laughed, “Obi-wan, why do you think Master Yoda asked me here tonight?”

“Ah. Understood,” he said. “Well… I suppose my question is… what do you plan to do?”

“I plan to give my child to the Jedi, if he or she is Force-sensitive,” the woman said without hesitation, as if it had been rehearsing the phrase to herself over and over again.

“Force sensitive, he will be,” Yoda said, his eyes closed, gently listening to their conversation.

“You seem very confident,” Obi-wan asked.

“And I am,” she replied.

“And how exactly did… this come about?”

“On my first mission as a Knight, I was sent to an Outer Rim planet that had rumors of someone working on some rather questionable atomic physics. When I arrived, I discovered a young scientist who had made some major breakthroughs in particle technology. He and I—“

“Fell in love,” Obi-wan finished.

“Yes,” she admitted.

“It was much too strong to deny. And…” she gestured to her body, “Here we are.”

“And your lover?” Obi-wan asked. “Where is he, now?”

“He’s relocated to Coruscant. For now, I stay with him, as I am banned from the temple until I give birth. Once I do, I will give my child to the Creche, and return to my duties as a Jedi. I am allowed to see Philo when I return from my missions,” she said. Again, without much enthusiasm.

“...You do not seem happy, Azelle,” Obi-wan whispered.

She looked up at Obi-wan, a bit of wetness in her eyes. “It is not a happy thing. And yet, it is what the Code requires. I will be able to see my baby grow—he will never know I am his mother, but at least I will see him now and again.”

Obi-wan tried to swallow a lump in his throat.

“And your—Philo?”

The girl said nothing. Her response conveyed her lover’s sadness, but inability to do anything about the decision.

Obi-wan cleared his throat, trying to rid himself of the tugging he felt in his heart.

“Why have you shown me this?” Obi-wan asked Yoda.

“Another facing this problem, you needed to see. Overcome these feelings you can, Obi-wan. Maintain devotion and loyalty to the Order, you must.”

“Master Yoda, she is on the verge of tears!” he heard himself saying.

“And stay there, she will! Until the attachment passes.”

“Master—Azelle will not stop missing her child.”

“Completely, she will not. But overcome this trial, she will.”

Obi-wan felt rebellion clawing at his chest. He wanted to grab the beautiful girl and shake her—tell her to go be with her brilliant physicist lover—work at one of the major Universities in the galaxy--who would be quite happy to have her—tell her to have lots of babies and be happy….

_I only want to see you happy, Master_

Anakin’s words echoed in his head.

He stood up.

“If you’ll excuse me,” he said politely, turning to the young girl, “I am so sorry you are going through this difficult time.”

He went to leave, but then turned back--a thought coming to him.

“I find it rather repugnant that pregnant women are banned from the Temple, Master. And yet the Jedi happily take the children they give birth to,” he said. “For what purpose other than shame could that rule have ever possibly been put in practice?”

And he walked out.

 

He needed to see Satine. He needed to see Anakin. And Force—he wished he could talk to Qui-Gon Jinn.

He took a standard issue speeder from the Temple to Satine’s apartments, and made no secret of his presence. He walked immediately up to her rooms, although he felt she was busy with some kind of meeting. The guards at the door said he would have to wait, but Obi-wan ignored this and knocked regardless.  
  
The door slid open a moment later. Standing there was a young woman—someone Obi-wan had never seen before. She curtsied to him out of respect and moved out of the way. Further inside there was murmuring, and soon, Obi-wan could see Satine sitting at her dining table with two other men. She was wearing a dark green dress with black embroidery—her hair loose and down. This was a political meeting of some kind. Both men had similar coloring to her own, and were clearly officials from Mandalore. They were discussing strategies for dealing with Deathwatch, and did not acknowledge Obi-wan for a moment or two before turning to him.

“Master Jedi,” both men said with respect.

Obi-wan nodded in acknowledgement. He was shocked Satine had allowed them to see him in her private quarters, but said nothing about it outright. They ended their meeting when Satine stood— “Gentleman, apologies, but the Master Jedi and I have other matters to attend to. We will continue this discussion next ten when we reconvene.”

They courteously took their leave.

When they were gone, there as silence. Obi-wan glanced at Satine, still standing at the door.

“You hold meetings in your private quarters? Is that not dangerous?” he asked.

“I’ve known those men longer than I’ve known you. One is an uncle.”

“Still…” Obi-wan said. He had little trust for anyone when it came to Satine.

She chuckled, “It’s unlike you,” she said moving to get herself a drink, “You are usually very trusting.”

“Less so nowadays. With the war.”

A moment later, there was another knock at the door.

Satine’s face fell…Obi-wan sensed her unease.

“No…” she whispered, and all but ran to the door before Obi-wan could stop her.

“What—what is it? What’s wrong?” he said, on her heels, hand on his lightsaber.

“No—no. It’s fine!” she said, putting her hands out to stop him. “Go back. Wait over there.”

He was clearly confused “Over--where? Satine—“

“Wait over there! Don't stand by the door!” she insisted.

“But what if—“

“I know who it is! Just--please. Go stand by the washroom, please,” she said, and disappeared into the vestibule

Obi-wan stood there like an idiot waiting, and although he had agreed not to interrupt, he slowly crept closer, peaking his head into the hallway that led to the front door. There he saw Satine standing with another woman, and a young boy. There was murmuring, and Obi-wan used the Force to make out the conversation.

“He’s been complaining of not feeling well, M’lady. I’m sorry but he insisted on coming back early.”

“My darling we’ve discussed this,” said Satine to the boy.

“Mama, please—I don’t like it here. I just want to stay with you…”

Obi-wan froze.

“Its not safe to stay with me, darling. Please, Saura—Just take him back to your room?”

"M'lady he does not wish to stay with me. I've tried," said the other woman.

“Mama! I want to stay with you,” insisted the boy, pushing past Satine and into the main part of her quarters.

“Wait, no!— don’t!” Satine cried as the boy pushed past.

Obi-wan tried move away away, but there wasn’t enough time. A moment later, he was face to face with the child.

The boy stared up at him. He was about 9 years old, with a beautiful round face, big blue eyes, and rusty brown hair. He was dressed like a traditional Mandalorian child.

The breath was stolen from Obi-wan's body. He felt a wave of connection to the child. Like standing face to face with one’s self in a mirror. He understood without having to be told—not to mention the child’s face was his own. Down to the dip in his chin.

Satine appeared behind the child a moment later and put her hands on his shoulders.

“Mama… it’s a Jedi…”

Satine swallowed.

“Yes my darling, it is. Now, go get yourself a glass of milk and go to your room, please. You can watch some Holo-pictures if you like. Go on.”

"But Mama-"

"Go on," Satine said a bit more firmly.

Without any further discussion the boy did as he was told, and disappeared into the next room.

Obi-wan watched him disappear, and kept his eyes on the door in disbelief.

There was silence…

For ten second…

Twenty…

“Say something” Satine finally said.

More silence.

“Obi-wan!”

Finally, Obi-wan turned to her, his eyes wet with tears.

“… We have a son,” he barely choked between sobs.

Satine said nothing, she just looked down.

“... We… have a son, and you did not tell me…” He did not try to hide his tears.

“Yes.“

 _“Why did you not tell me!?!”_ he shouted

Satine jumped and took a step back.

“I tried! I wanted to! But I did not want to send it in a message—how cruel that would have been? What could you have done? Or said?”

“I would have come to you!”

“Would you have? I am not so sure!”

“Well, I _am_ sure!”

She shook her head. “I wanted to tell you myself. I went to the temple to tell you.”

“You--?”

“Yes. I was brought before the Council and they demanded to know why I was there. I was mortified you would be punished—and I began to cry. One of the Master’s assured me I did not have to be afraid. That nothing bad would happen to me—or you. So I told them. They said they understood. But that my… _situation_ did not warrant disturbing your training or missions. You were on… Naboo at the time, I believe. He told me that if I did not want the child, they would gladly take him. I was terrified at their nonchalance about the whole thing. I left. I never returned. After that, time passed. He was born—I made no announcement of his birth. He poses as one of my assistant’s children when we travel. He understands the game is for precautions. I wanted to tell you. I created dozens and dozens of messages… but never sent them”

“Why?” he whispered.

“Because I was… frightened of your reaction. That you would hate me.”

“Hatred is not part of my vocabulary. Or my life. In any way. I do not hate. Least of all you.”

“You would have been upset.”

“No. I would have come to you and our child.”

“And resented me for ruining your Knighthood?”

“Satine!”

“You know it’s true! It’s all you spoke of when we told each other our hopes and dreams!”

“I was a boy.”

“A boy whose dream I did not want to take away.”

The Council had known. The Council has known all this time that he had a child… and never told him.

“I have a son…” he whispered again, incredulously—the information rolling over him as a shock each time the thought came. “I have a son!” he said again. He felt rather dizzy.

“Yes. And if you are upset with me, I understand. I do not expect you to stay, and I understand if you never wish to see me agai—“

“Are you mad?” he said, standing up and going to her. He took her into his arms. “I am heartbroken I did not know. You should have told me. I will live with the guilt of having not known for the rest of my life!”

“Guilt is not necessary,” she said.

Obi-wan glanced towards the closed door behind which he knew his son was sleeping.

“Is he—“

“Yes," she said, knowing what question was coming. "He might as well be your living replica. He can move things with his mind. He sees things before they happen.”

Obi-wan closed his eyes. He did not know whether to be proud, or petrified.

“And you will NOT take him from me, Do you understand? If you try, I will have you hunted down and castrated before he and I disappear into the Outer Rim where you will never find us for long as you live!”

He had the urge to step back and laugh both at the same time. “Satine-“

“Tell me you understand!” she shouted.

“I understand!” he finally replied.

“Swear you will not take him, or have him taken by your people. Swear it! Swear it now, or get out!”

His people...

Obi wan put his hands up in defense. “I swear it, Satine. Please, calm down. I promise you, no one will take him.”

The Duchess sighed, and smoothed her dress, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. She placed her head in her hands, and seemed to be trying to calm herself with deep breaths.

Obi-wan gave her a bit of space, slowly circling around, sitting near the headboard a few moments later.

“I am sorry I yelled,” she whispered.

“No reason to be sorry. He is your child. Protecting him is instinctual.”

There was another short silence. In that moment, another thought came to Obi-wan.

“Does he… know?” Obi-wan asked.

“Yes,” she whispered, “He knows your name and has read your public history. He has seen your pictures, and even keeps a few of them in his holo.”

“So he is most likely at the door listening to this entire conversation.”

“Is he? You are the Jedi…” she said.

Obi-wan turned his senses to the room.

“No. He is lying in bed. Crying.”

They both stood up at the same moment, but Obi-wan crossed to the door before Satine did.

“Let me?” he asked her.

She stared at him a moment. He could feel her struggling. She was afraid... she was truly afraid Obi-wan would betray her, take the boy to the Jedi, and disappear. He was disgusted with himself that his lover would even have such a thought. He took a step forward and wrapped his arms around her.

"I would never, Satine. Never," he said. He felt her relax in his arms.

"Go, then. Go speak to him," she said, and he nodded, taking a few steps to the door.

He turned back to her a moment later, realizing he had forgotten something.

“… What is his name?” Obi-wan asked.

“Qui,” she whispered.

Obi-wan’s heart nearly broke as he walked into the boy’s room.


	5. A Son

Obi-wan quietly walked into the small room off the side of Satine’s sleeping chamber. As soon as he opened the door he felt a wave of sadness from the boy—this was his son. There was no way he could have been that deeply connected to someone he did not know, or was related to by blood.

… _The force runs in families,_ he whispered to himself. But why? What was the purpose… if attachment was forbidden?

_Of course, the force runs in families. Simple genetics. Don’t be ridiculous…_

Obi-wan swallowed, and looked up at the child, sitting up in bed, holding a data pad in one hand, and a warn looking yellow blanket in the other. His eyes and cheeks were red from crying—only making him more cherubic and beautiful. Obi-wan heard the boy’s breath hitch as he walked in, and Qui immediately stuffed his yellow blanket under his comforter in an effort to appear more grown up.

Obi-wan smiled gently.

“Hello,” he said as gently, and kindly as he could.

“Hi,” said the boy. He sat up and tossed his data pad aside.

“I won’t insult you by introducing myself…” he said.

“…Okay.”

_Oh Force, I’m already doing a terrible job._

“I… came to say hello. To ask how you are. Your mother—“

“Never told you about me.”

Obi-wan swallowed. He didn’t quite know how to respond to that.

“No… she didn’t. I’m sorry. It was to protect you.”

“It’s all right,” said the boy “I might only be ten, but I’m not stupid. I know you’re a Jedi. I know you can’t have a family.”

“Well,” said Obi-wan smiling a bit, “That’s not entirely true. I didn’t know about you before, but now I do, and I would like to be your friend.”

“Yeah… I don’t really need any more friends” said the boy.

Obi-wan’s heart sunk a bit. Perhaps the boy was more resentful than anything, and wasn’t interested in the relationship for any other reason than to make Obi-wan feel badly. Not that he deserved less.

 “I have lots of those. Friends, I mean” he continued. “And anyway, I know you’re my Dad… I have pictures of you from archive records. So why can’t you be a dad to me?”

Obi-wan was shocked. The boy was smart, direct, and imprudent.

“I… I only said I wanted to be your friend because I did not want to frighten you. I’d like to be a father to you… but I did not want to move to quickly…”

“Move too quickly? I’ll be 11 next month. I’d say you’ve moved pretty slowly.”

Obi-wan closed his eyes for a moment and suppressed a smile.

“I’m Qui,” the boy said.

“I’m Obi-wan,” he responded. 

“So… are you going to take me to the temple now and try to get the Masters to make me a Jedi?”

“No. No I am not.”

“Good, because Mom is really scared of that. She says she’ll kill you if you take me away. And then herself.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Your mother said that to you? That she would kill herself?”

The boy reached out, and a popular handheld gaming system flew across the room and into the boy’s hands. He flipped it on. He started to play while he continued to speak.

“I mean… yeah. Mom’s pretty dramatic. But we talk to each other about everything. She always says I’m all she has. And she’s all I have.”

Obi-wan chewed on the inside of his mouth a bit, and stepped forward, gently taking the gaming system out of the boy’s hand.

“Who taught you to do that?” he said.

The boy chuckled, “You mean this?” he said moving one of his hands, and making the gaming system float up in the air about a foot above his head.

“Yes, that,” said Obi-wan.

“Nobody,” he said shrugging, “I could just do it. I can do lots of things. I can even make people forget what they’re doing sometimes. Or make the guards do what I say. Sometimes if I don’t want what Nova makes for dinner, I’ll use my mind to make her make pancakes or something I like.”

Obi-wan felt an uneasiness in his chest.

“Well… you shouldn’t do that, you know,” Obi-wan said gently.

The boy rolled his eyes, “Sure, I shouldn’t. But it’s not hurting anyone.”

Obi-wan cleared his throat and stood up.

The boy looked up. “So that’s it?” he said, “That’s your visit? After 10 years? You’ve already had enough of me?

“No, no, Qui. It’s… late. And you should sleep.”

“I stay up as long as I want” he said smirking.

Obi-wan crossed his arms over his chest. The boy needed a father. That much was clear. He would grow up to be witty, incredibly smart, and a complete disrespectful nightmare if this kept up.

“Well. Not anymore,” said Obi-wan firmly.

There was a long silence.

“What?” said the boy chuckling as if what Obi-wan had said was a joke.

“I said not anymore.” 

Obi-wan reached out and the gaming system slipped out of the boys hands and into his own.

“Hey!” Qui said reaching out, trying to grab it back. But it wasn’t working. A moment later, Obi-wan handed it back, but no matter how Qui tried to turn it on, he couldn’t.

“I put a damper on it. It wont turn on for about ten hours. You need to go to sleep now”

“What?! No! You can't tell me wahat to do! I’m telling my mom! MOM!.... MOM!”

Obi-wan sighed and stood there waiting until Satine came running into the room. He knew she would, and of course, a moment later, she did.

“What is it—what’s wrong?” she said, walking in, and sitting beside the boy. She glanced up at Obi-wan, her expression a bit curious. "What's going on?" she asked.

“The Jedi broke my gaming system!”

Satine looked up at Obi-wan gain with a raised eyebrow.

“I put an electrical damper on it. For a while. Qui here was being very rude to me. And it’s nearly 1 AM anyway. He should be going to sleep, shouldn’t he?”

Satine paused a moment. She went from looking at Obi-wan disapprovingly, to sighing, “He’s right, Qui. Go brush your teeth and get in bed.”

“No” said the boy plainly, flipping over on his stomach and ignoring his mother.

Obi-wan glanced at Satine, “Is he always like this?”

She rolled her eyes but nodded.

“Young man,” said Obi-wan, turning back to Qui. “You will get up and do as your mother asks.”

There was no response. The boy ignored him.

“… Qui?”

Again, no response.

“Fine then. For every time you ignore your mother, I’ll take some other gadget or game system you have and keep it for myself,” he said, picking up the game system, and tucking it under his arm. “And this time you won’t have it for much longer than 10 hours.”

The boy turned and looked at him, “… Wow. You must be a really stupid Jedi. My Mom is the ruler of Mandalore. We’re rich. I can just ask Nova to buy me a new one tomorrow.”

“And I’ll tell her not to,” said Satine.

Both parents stood there staring at the boy with arms crossed over their chests…

Qui rolled his eyes and sat up.

“I’m not sure I like this whole having a Jedi as a dad thing anymore” he said, getting up and wandering over to the little washroom to brush his teeth.

Satine headed for the door, and walked back into her own suite. Obi-wan followed shutting the door behind her. There was momentary silence.

“… He’s horribly behaved, Satine!”

“I know.”

“You _know_?”

“What can I do!? I am busy, and he has no one and when I do have time with him I wind up spoiling him so he knows I love him! He’s been raised by nannies and au pair’s but as he’s gotten older he knows how to upset them and they leave more often. There’s nothing I can do—I have to run Mandalore, Obi-wan.”

“At the expense of your own son?”

“No—no, don’t you dare do that! Precisely _for_ my own son. Perhaps he’s a bit of a problem child, but he will grow out of it.”

“I’m not so sure he will.”

She paused, staring at him with vitriol. “So… that’s what you think of him?”

“Wait. Satine— “

“No, Please—if that is what you think of my boy, then you are welcome to leave. We have survived a decade without you and we will be perfectly fine for another!”

“No—no, Satine that is not what I meant…”

“No? It seems like it was.”

“Let me help you. Let me help you and Qui.”

“How exactly?”

“He needs… he needs structure and guidance. He needs—“

“Get out.”

“Satine!”

“If you dislike him so much, then go!”

“I don’t dislike him—he simply needs guidance!”

“Guidance? Guidance... Of course that's what you would say! I know what you’re going to suggest!”

“No—no you don’t!”

“I said to get out!”

Obi-wan stood there, shocked. She wasn't going to allow him to say anymore, was she? He felt emotion flood his chest and tears well up in his eyes, but he did not let himself shed them. He gritted his teeth and walked to the door. Satine stayed exactly where she had been standing. Before walking out, Obi-wan turned to her once more.

“Apologies for upsetting you, Duchess. It will not happen again,"  he whispered.

And he walked out. Tears ran down his cheeks as he made his way outside. 

As he walked back through the streets to the temple, he had difficulty remembering the last time he had cried....

 

Oh yes, he remembered, now. 


End file.
